


Glowing Embers

by animeshen



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Major Character Injury, More tags to be added, Possible smut later, Slow Burn, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), dimilyth, haven't decided - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-01-23 22:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21327535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animeshen/pseuds/animeshen
Summary: In his madness, he hurt her in an unforgivable way. Byleth was going to give Dimitri one opportunity to redeem himself and earn back her trust- for the sake of the Kingdom, and for the sake of dying, ashen coals that once were his heart.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 16
Kudos: 177





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in about ten years, go easy on me

There had always been just a little darkness in him, hidden deep inside, behind his weary smile. Felix knew it. He’d warned everyone, too. It was hard to imagine that this handsome, perfect prince, an absolute standard of a gentleman, could have any black in his heart, but it was there. It revealed itself in small ways- on the battlefield, with the ease in which he killed; in his headaches and exhaustion that he refused to seek help for; in discontinued conversations, insomnia, and a body so tightly wound that his grip broke weapons on the regular. On the outside, Dimitri was perfect- and he certainly tried to live up to the standard. But his closest friends did fear that one day the weight of all the pressures he’d put on himself would snap him like a twig.

And it did.

*

When she found him again, five years had passed. Five years asleep through cold and snow and sun and rain; five years Byleth could not get back. Much had changed in her absence. The church was in ruins, the land divided and at war, Rhea was gone, her friends and students at odds against each other, and Dimitri… 

He’d thought she was a ghost, and maybe she was. But if so, then he was, as well- a shell of his former self. Gone was his princely smile and the light behind his eyes, and all that remained was bitterness, hatred and guilt. Battle scarred and dishevelled, unkempt hair falling over a missing eye, an intense scowl etched across his face. It wrenched her heart to see him so. Five years seeing nothing past his need for revenge, bloodlust growing inside him, feeding on despair, and coiling around him like a snake. Everyone and everything he’d ever loved was gone- betrayed by his own family. It was enough to drive a man to madness.

But even then, Byleth believed in him. Just as there was a darkness in his heart before, she could still see the embers of light now. He didn’t make it easy- he hid it under layers and layers of pain and anguish. He lashed out like a feral dog, biting and growling, terrified to let anyone near him again and consumed with rage.

But the light did glow. She saw it when Rodrigue joined them, and returned Dimitri’s sacred weapon, retrieved at great personal risk, to its’ rightful owner. Dimitri had called the man “My friend”, and she could see the cracks in his armor there as gratitude blew at the dying coals inside him. He would never be truly good- but he would never be truly evil, either. She believed that with all her heart.

And that’s what made it so much harder when he finally hurt her.

*

“You aren’t thinking this through!” Byleth chided, following Dimitri across the knights’ hall. “We can’t go straight to Enbarr, it’s suicide and you know it. We need to send a messenger to the Alliance, and we need to take back Fhirdiad.” Gilbert was keeping pace behind her as Rodrigue sighed at his Lord’s obstinance.

“If its’ suicide, then let it be as such! I’ll not rest until that woman’s head is on a pike!” Dimitri snarled back at her. How could she not see? Byleth had been there in the Holy Tomb, when Edelgard showed her true colours and started this war, when she betrayed him- _ all  _ of them- so viciously. When he’d been imprisoned, when Dedue died, when he’d lost  _ everything. _ How could she not understand! Even now he could see the faces of everyone he had lost because of that woman- Glenn and Father and Dedue, staring at him with such disappointment and expectation, hear their indignation and accusations. It shouldn’t be taking this long to avenge them! “Nothing matters except killing Edelgard! We march to Enbaar!”

“Listen to yourself!” Byleth cried in exasperation, “See _ past  _ yourself! This war has hurt  _ hundreds _ of people, not just you! I understand you’re in pain but we  _ all _ are! We’ve  _ all _ lost something!”

“I don’t  _ care _ about that!” Dimitri barked back, turning to her in a fury. “If YOU care so much, then you all can go, none of that matters to me! MY way of ending this war leads  _ right  _ through Edelgard!”

“Dimitri, you are a king, you need to consider your people! I implore you to THINK!”

“Stop, stop  _ talking _ ! I  _ swear _ I will kill you too if you don’t let me alone!” His professor’s voice was a nail in his head, combined with the voices of all the others shouting to be heard above her, his ears were ringing with accusations and critique, it was a cacophony that threatened to deafen him.  _ She’s in the way, _ they said. _ She’s your enemy _ , they said. He grit his teeth, gripping Areadbhar firmly enough to turn his knuckles white, his head was pounding.

“My lord,” Rodrigue carefully chimed in, adding another spike into Dimitri’s skull at the sound of his voice, “I beg you to consider your position, what you mean to the people of Faerghus! I will, of course, follow you wherever you lead- I only want to advise you on which course is best for the kingdom.”

_ He’s against you,  _ They said. _ He’s trying to distract you. He’s been taken in by that woman- he was sent to lead you astray. To lead you to a useless death.  _

_ Shut up! _ Dimitri silently implored the voices,  _ Shut up shut up! I will do as you command! I will stack bodies as high as you require, but please stop! _

“I am no one’s lord, I have no position! I am a mad dog, a killer! If you wish to follow me so be it, but you know which path I take!”

_ Let me be! Just let me kill, and let me die! _

“I will not let you lead our friends to their deaths!” Byleth’s voice pierced through the rest, her green eyes flashed with anger. He bared his teeth at her, imposing a threatening figure as he leered over his former teacher, weapon readied in his iron fist.

“_Your _friends!”  
“_Our_ friends! The ones you’ve known for years, the ones who are still alive! Do you think it would satisfy Glenn to see them die at your order? To see Felix and Ingrid die?”

He balked to hear her speak his name, shaking with rage. How dare she presume to know what Glenn would want! She had never even met him! She never saw his face twisted in anguish in his final moment of life! She wasn’t tormented nightly by his thirst for revenge, his demand for blood!

“Don’t you dare speak his name!” Dimitri hissed. “I will kill you if you say his name again!”

Byleth set him with a stoney look. “Glenn would be disappointed in you.”

The strike came unthinkingly. His arm had reacted before his mind had, so blinded with rage he hadn’t even realized what had happened until he saw the blood. Her face was a mixture of shock and pain, and worst of all- betrayal. Dimitri’s heart sank into his stomach. Across her torso was a deep gash, dripping with hot, crimson blood. It was on her hands as she held the wound, aghast. He looked at Areadbhar with blurry eyes and saw the red on it’s tip. In horror, he dropped it with a clatter to the floor, Byleth’s blood splattering from the blade. There was a moment oh blessed, horrified silence as everyone collectively processed what had just happened, until finally, Gilbert and Rodrigue rushed to her aide.

“You… you should have dodged,” Dimitri stammered, overwhelmed by regret, guilt, horror, anger- “Or blocked it, what’s wrong with you! You were supposed to dodge!” Her blood was dripping down her belly, under her shorts, down her legs and onto the floor, he was never supposed to see her like this, it was never supposed to be his fault, not her too-

“I didn’t think you would actually follow through,” she winced as the other knights rushed to stop the bleeding. The look on her face turned his soul to ice- a look of utter contempt. “I  _ trusted  _ you.”

“You- I warned you what I would do!” He bit, his body shaking- not her, not like this, not by his hand, not her too- “You brought this on yourself!”

His words rang hollow as she was escorted out of the room to the infirmary, leaving him alone with a pool of his mentor’s blood. Dimitri felt like he would throw up at the sight of it, collapsing against a wall for support- his head was pounding, his heart was in his throat, sweating and shaking- not her too, not like this, not by his hand…

To the surprise of all involved, Dimitri actually went to see her in the infirmary. Byleth hadn’t expected a hint of remorse from her fallen king, and Dimitri himself was astonished to see that his footsteps had lead him straight to her. Nonetheless, He filled the doorway like a gloomy shadow as Mercedes tended to their teacher, making the entire room feel a bit more chilled by his presence.

He said nothing, but she could tell he wanted to speak. Byleth asked Mercedes to briefly excuse them, despite the healer’s incomplete job on the gash he had gifted her. Awkwardly and with reservations, Mercedes left the king and the professor alone to speak.

The silence between them was thick as a fog, both their heads filled with accusations, fear, and anger. Dimitri wasn’t even sure why he had come at all- this woman meant nothing to her now, maybe once upon a time but she was nothing now, only his revenge mattered- so why was he here, in the infirmary, after his own personal assault on her. Looking at her now, her eyes filled with sorrow and disgust, bloody bandages surrounding her, he still couldn’t find the words he had come to say, if he had come to say anything at all.

“Yes, it hurts.” It was Byleth who finally broke the damnable silence. Dimitri’s heart was in his throat.

“It’s a legendary weapon,” he replied, obviously. “It’s going to scar.”

All the scrapes and cuts and arrows and bludgeoning she had taken in their year together, in her time as a mercenary, in her life- nothing ever seemed to scar her. It was like something in her blood went into protective overdrive to keep a single blemish from marring her flesh. But that would not be the case with a cut from Areadbhar. Her skin- her perfect skin, like virgin snow- would bear an ugly and terrible reminder of what kind of horrid man he truly was.

_ You really are a monster. She respected you. She trusted you. You loved her, once. Look at her now. Look what you did.  _

Byleth rolled her eyes, moving painfully to stand. A part of him, buried deep inside his heart, wanted to wrap an arm around her shoulders to help her. He remained stone still.

“Why are you here, Dimitri?” She asked in a chilled voice, cold and dead as a crypt. “I doubt it’s to apologize. If you’ve come to finish the job, please do it before the painkillers wear off.”

His face contorted into a scowl. He didn’t know if he was here to apologize. After all, this was her fault. He’d warned her. She went too far. She said too much. Why was he here?

Nothing was said. The atmosphere was growing increasingly heavy. Dimitri turned to leave.

“I think my services to the kingdom might best be suited elsewhere.”

He stopped, turning back. A grim frown split his face, displeasure radiating from his one good eye.

“You’re going to abandon the Kingdom,” he spat.

“I’m going to abandon the  _ King _ ,” she corrected. “I still intend to help stop this war. But my council is clearly of no use to you. I’m going to try to talk to Claude about joining forces. And I’m going to stay in Alliance territory.”

Dimitri was in turmoil, emotions rolling within him like a storm at sea. Anger. Betrayal. Relief. Disappointment. Sorrow. Guilt. 

_ You should have killed her. You should kill her now. She’s going to conspire against you. She’s going to tell your secrets. She’s going to join the Empire. She’s a betrayer _ .

“As soon as this is healed enough for travel, you’ll be rid of me. I’ll tell our friends-  _ my _ friends- tomorrow. I wish you the best of luck, Dimitri. May the Goddess soothe your soul.”

“Don’t go.” The words rushed out of him faster than he could process, but even after his thoughts had caught up to his mouth, he knew he had said what he had come to say. Byleth openly gaped, astonished to hear the words. Slowly, her face became cold and passive again.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“....I need you here.” Was that why?  
“Well I don’t feel very appreciated,” she spat, hand gesturing cruelly to the bandages on her torso, already soaking red with fresh blood. He set his expression, and tried again.

“...I apologize.”

He did, too. He didn’t want to hurt her, if she was on his side. He needed her for his revenge. She was too smart to be a casualty of his own anger and pride. And most of all, he didn’t want her as an enemy, on any battlefield.

But despite his attempt, her face remained cold. “I don’t believe you.”

Dimitri scowled at this rejection, humiliated and frustrated. “I have already apologized! What else is there to say?”

“There’s  _ nothing _ to say!” she barked. “You HURT me. You turned your WEAPON on me. You showed NO regard for your station as a king OR as my friend. I don’t want to stay just to be a tool, to be used up and discarded. I don’t want another scar. I don’t want empty words!”

“What do you want, then?!”

“I want _action!_ SHOW me your apology!”  
“HOW?” There was an edge of desperation in his voice, masked behind the righteous fury. She was right- words were hollow. But what could he possibly offer? She didn’t need him. She could go to Claude and join the Alliance; Claude would never turn his arrows to her. Even Edelgard would have opened her arms to their former professor. He couldn’t let her leave- he couldn’t have her as an enemy and expect to win. He needed her strength. He needed her wisdom. It was his only chance at carving a path towards his victory.

Byleth considered him for a moment, her green eyes calculating. He found himself strangely intimidated. After a thick, tense moment, she came to a decision.

“This wound is your fault,” she began, and took a small dagger from her belt. “So you’re going to help me heal it. Until it’s fully healed, I shall not forgive you.”

“I- That’s- I have no practice in Faith magic!” Dimitri stammered in response.

“That’s the point,” She replied, and to his actual shock, she took the dagger to her leather corset and tore it open, discarding the ruined armor to the floor. Next, she tore off the dressing that hid her ghastly wound, throwing them aside. Her breasts were bound tightly into place with bandages, and below that, the diagonal slash from rib to hip wept openly, the blood seeping again down her legs. Dimitri’s face reddened.

“Are you hoping to bleed to death? Call Mercedes back!” He ordered, aghast at her brazen display and revulsed by the crude, disgusting mark he’d left on her body.

“Clean and compress it, Dimitri,” she replied coldly, “Today, and every night until it’s healed. If you do this, I will forgive you, and I will aide your revenge.”

Her face was turning white, clammy and sweaty from the loss of precious blood. Whatever was going to happen needed to happen quickly. He should call Mercedes to fix their professor, she would know what to do. But then, Byleth would leave him. How could she ask such a ridiculous thing! He had no idea how to dress a wound; he only knew how to cause them. Dimitri growled, furious and mortified. “You are inviting an infection! I’ve no skill in healing! If you’re so determined to die, say so and I can end it for you quickly, instead of this slow and painful charade!”

“You did this, Dimitri.” She was ice cold; her eyes, her voice, even her body as the blood continued seeping down her legs. “You need to understand the consequences of your actions. You need to take  _ responsibility _ . Dress this wound, today and every night until it’s healed. Or send Mercedes back in, and you’ll see me no more. Please decide quickly, Dimitri- I’m growing faint.”

She didn’t give him the luxury of deliberating long. He could see her legs starting to give out under her. This was a farce- the nerve of this woman to traipse back into his life after five years, five long years alone with nothing but ghosts- and start making demands, Telling him who he should be, and how he should live. She still treated him as a child, but the prince she knew, the prince that loved her, was dead. She should die, too- save them both the trouble.

_ Just kill her, _ they said.  _ It’ll be faster. It’ll be easier. She wasn’t there when you needed her, no one was. Why should you take care of her now? What do you have to gain? _

With a look of pure malice, Dimitri strode into the room, grabbed a fishfull of medical supplies, and kneeled before Byleth.

_ This is shameful, _ he thought to himself as he dipped a rag into a basin of warm water to wash the blood from her belly. _ I should kneel for no one. I should attend to no one. My pity is owed to no one. _

Several balms laid before him and he had no idea what they all did, but he presumed they existed to help. Dimitri scooped a finger into one of the small jars and smeared it’s continents onto her wound. He heard her wince, sucking in her breath as he touched the open flesh, and instinctively slowed down. It was still bleeding. She should really see an actual healer. This was ridiculous- what did she think he could do to help? As best he could, Dimitri wound a roll of bandages around her torso tightly, hoping to keep the blood contained. The moment he tied off the end, Byleth collapsed onto the bed, pale and sweating. Dimitri felt like his heart was dissolving in his guts.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “I’ll see you tomorrow night in my room.”

Without a word, he swept out of the infirmary.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, still knocking the rust off a bit. Blessed be to my sister Methoxyethane for doing beta on this.

It took almost no time for the truth to spread across Garreg Mach. Mercedes had insisted on knowing why Byleth was rejecting her continued healing, and upon hearing, was displeased at her professor’s explanation, but heeded it nonetheless. Of course, in her worry, Mercedes told Annette at tea, who told Ingrid, and before long it was public concern.

The first one to break in Byleth’s door the next morning was Felix. He barely knocked- just three sharp raps and then her door flew violently open. The swordsman found her at her desk in loose clothing, pouring over some paperwork.

“Good morning, Felix,” she greeted with no discernable expression. He scowled in reply, his eyes sharp and glaring a hole right through her.

“ _ One _ , if you are injured you shouldn’t be at your desk working, and _ two _ , WHY are you  _ still _ injured instead of going to Manuela or Mercedes to fix it?!”

With a drawn out sigh, Byleth stood laboriously from her chair and crossed her arms. “ _ One _ , my  _ body _ is injured, not my  _ brain, _ and  _ someone _ needs to be filling out forms and reports to keep this monastery supplied and running.  _ Two _ , there’s little more faith magic could have done at this point, the rest is up to time and medicine.”

“Then how about THIS for an option. Your beast has gone mad and it’s _ bit _ you. It’s time to put it down.”

“We aren’t committing regicide.” She rolled her eyes.

“Then lock him in a cage!” He snarled back, furious. “What’s the point of keeping him around now? He’s almost killed you. Next time he actually might!”

“Dimitri is the king, and the only heir. If we drive him away, he’ll only die uselessly. We need to bring him back from the brink!”

“He’s fallen off already, Professor! And he’s taken you with him! Look at you- how are you supposed to fight now?! If someone is maiming our best warriors- our  _ tacticians _ \- then they need to be dealt with!”

“I am already dealing with him!” Byleth snapped. “If you know that I am a tactician, then please assume I’ve considered this already. I’m not an idiot- I know he’s unstable. I know his action was not one of a well man. But if I can guide this into a _ teaching _ moment-  _ maybe _ I can begin to steer him back down the correct path.”

Felix was radiating contempt at her every word, his face twisted into a snarl. “You’re wasting your time,” he spat. “Play your little game, then. But the next time he hurts one of us- and he  _ will _ \- I’m putting a sword right through his heart.”

He spun and marched out of the room, heavy boots exploding across the floorboards as he went to decapitate some training dummies. As soon as he was gone, Sylvain slid easily into the room from around the door where he had been listening. Byleth sighed and rubbed her temples.

“We’ve all been worried about him,” He began carefully, “but you should know, now we’re all  _ mad _ at him. What he did was way out of line.”

“I’m not here to defend him.”

“So why?”

A heavy, exhausted sigh escaped her lungs as she gingerly put her hand to her belly. “Because he apologized for it.”

Sylvain tisked, his hands on his hips as he shook his head. “An apology isn’t gonna un-slice your guts.”

“I know that,” She rolled her eyes and sat back down at her desk, mindlessly shuffling the papers stacked in front of her. “But we need a king. A real king, who would lead his people. And for a moment… that’s who I saw. The one who hurt me, that’s not Dimitri. The one who apologized…  _ that _ is.”

“So…” Sylvain folded his arms, a contemplative, if doubting, look in his eyes. “...You think if you make him fix what he broke… You can cure his madness? I dunno, Professor. That sounds like a stretch.”

“It is,” she replied grimly. “But it’s his last chance.”

“And if he doesn’t show?”

“...Then I’ll tell you, tomorrow.”

“Fair enough!” Sylvain put his arms up in surrender before placing them casually behind his head. “I’ll trust you- you haven’t been wrong yet. But just so you know- there IS a betting pool on whether he’ll actually show.”

“That’s a poor thing to bet on,” Byleth grimaced. “And where is YOUR coin?”

“Heh! I’ll tell you tomorrow.” He smiled an easy smile at her as he sauntered back out the door, closing it behind him.

If Byleth herself would have been in the betting pool, she actually might have set her coin to ‘he arrives, but very late, possibly the middle of the night’. So she was delightfully surprised- and frankly, relieved- when he arrived on time, just as she was beginning to settle for the evening. Three hard knocks announced him, and as she opened the door, he filled it like a looming, gloomy shadow. He was still entirely in his armor, she noted- like he was somehow still expecting a fight. She turned to let him in and he wordlessly entered.

“They’re all very cross with you,” she stated bluntly as she opened a box of medical supplies. Dimitri grunted.

“I don’t care what they think.”

“You should care a little. It’s not just my trust you severed with that display. They’re looking to you for leadership, Dimitri.”

“They should look elsewhere, then. The only thing that matters to me is killing Edelgard.”

“Then why are you here, now?”

He said nothing. She didn’t think he would. The fact that he had arrived at all said enough. With a resigned sigh, she pulled up the loose shirt she had been wearing. Beneath it, his patchwork job from the night before was crusted with dried blood. Dimitri’s throat closed up at the sight of it.

_ You did that. You’re a wild beast. Someone should put you down. _

Less than carefully, he pulled the old bandage off of her. New blood oozed from the middle, around crusted over scabs. He had no idea what to do. All the times he’d been injured, all the times he’d needed healing, and his mind was blanking on every single step. The blood was seeping down her belly to her shorts. His stomach was in knots. He had to… stop it! He had to stop the blood. Gravity was making that an issue.

“Lay down on the bed,” he commanded gruffly, visibly uncomfortable. Byleth laid unquestioningly on her back, still holding her shirt above the wound. Dimitri took a clean cloth from a pail and dipped it in lukewarm water. Silently, he began to clean the blood off of her. His movements were rough, and Byleth didn’t complain, but a sharp hiss of pain when he pressed too hard near the gash were all the critique he needed to readjust.

This was never how it was supposed to be. This was all wrong. In all the times as a boy that he had envisioned himself hovering over Byleth on her bed, her hair splayed out and his hands on her flesh…. And envision he  _ had _ …. This was never something he had considered. Even in the fantasies where he had gallantly saved her on the battlefield and gingerly tended to her wounds… and he’d had that one, too…. He was never the monster that had assaulted her.

_ A foolish child, _ he thought to himself.  _ A silly, sheltered boy. _

But then why was he here?

All day long he’d been back and forth on it. As he eviscerated practice dummies at dawn in the training grounds, as he contemplated in the church, as he stalked the monastery perimeter for any signs of an attack, he changed his mind a hundred times. He’d warned her. He owed her nothing. She should have blocked. She had no sense to trust him. Why would she trust him? Why is that break of trust so painful? What’s the harm. He could play this game. He only needed a few minutes each night, and then her skills would be back on his side. But did he need them? Did he need her? He hadn’t needed her for the last five years. He hadn’t needed anyone. This was ridiculous. He should let her leave, go to Claude, do whatever she wanted. Why did that thought wrench his gut? Claude didn’t deserve her. Nobody deserved her. And she didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve this boar of a man goring her for unwanted truths. He needed to fix this.

And so it went, his thoughts a maelstrom that tormented him throughout the day and evening, until in the end he lurked in her doorway because the potential guilt of not doing so felt even worse.

“Stand up,” he gestured harshly, pulling away from the bed. She did, and he wound the roll of bandages tightly around her torso, rib to hip. She watched him impassively, and it frustrated him to wonder what she was thinking. Did it amuse her, to have him crouching before her, tending to her whims? Or was her heart still filled with disgust? He didn’t know which answer stung worse.

Finally he tied off the end, and stood up. She looked pale, and exhausted. She should probably be eating more than she was. He chose not to comment.

“I want you to know,” she began with an infuriatingly indiscernible expression, “That I’m very happy you came. I know you think of this as a punishment. But even so, you showed compassion by arriving. So, thank you.”

He felt a knot inside him begin to untangle just a little to hear the words, but his relief was short lived as her eyes turned cold again.

“But I still do not forgive you. So I will see you tomorrow.”

Dimitri scowled. He wanted to say a million things. This was pointless. He was doing more harm than good. She was being meddlesome. He didn’t care if she forgave him or not. He turned to leave, but stopped in the doorway.

“You were supposed to dodge.”

With that her doorway was empty again. Byleth sighed and wearily sat down on her bed. He showed up…. Which means she would have to wait for him again tomorrow. And the next night. Every night would be filled with anxiety until he either softened up and accepted his mistakes, or stopped coming entirely. And then, she would be gone. She wondered how Claude was doing. Surely he wouldn’t be  _ this _ much trouble.

As she was about to blow out the candles, she heard a soft tap on her door, which then opened just slightly enough for the slim form of Mercedes to slip in. “Forgive me intrusion,” she began in her tinkling bell of a voice, “But though I understand you are asking His Highness to tend to your wound, I would at least like to oversee it’s being cared for properly."

Byleth could only suppose that to be fair as she stood and lifted her shirt for the healer. Mercedes clicked her tongue, examining it. “These bandages are much too tight.”

“Yes, I noticed,” Byleth smirked wryly in reply. Mercedes giggled.

“He never much was one for delicate work. I’m frankly terrified he’s going to make it worse on accident.” She set to untying Dimitri’s rough knot and loosening the bandages to give the professor a little more room to breathe. A moment of silence passed between them until the healer finally finished her work and stood up. There was a grim look on her face.

“I suppose you can guess,” She began, “I’ve been waiting nearby… in case he didn’t show up. I’m terribly sorry to doubt His Highness, or your teaching methods. But I weighed the options, and this one gave me less anxiety.”

“I forgive you,” Byleth sighed. “I know everyone was worried. Sylvain even mentioned a betting pool.”

“I took no part in that,” She wrinkled her nose up in disgust. “Imagine betting on someone’s conscience like that. Disgraceful.”

“But would you have won?”

Mercedes’ expression was flat. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “I would have lost,” she whispered. “I want to have faith in him. I want to have faith in you for trying to help him. They were betting he would not show. But I knew that he would. Dimitri, he’s…hurt. He’s deeply hurt. But he’s not evil. I know he’s not. He just needs to understand that for all the people he’s lost…. He still has people alive, too. And I know that if anyone can show him that… it’s you, Professor.” She blushed a little as she finished. Byleth felt her heart warm to hear her. She understood why Felix and Sylvain were angry- she was angry, too. But at least one other person understood what Byleth was hoping to achieve with Dimitri.

“Thank you,” She smiled. “I pray to the Goddess that my intentions reach him.”

“I pray as well.” Mercedes stood, smoothing out her skirt. “You should know, Manuela has been ready to burst in your door all day and heal you against your will. She had supporters. But I stopped her. With all my heart, I hope you can bring Dimitri back, Professor. We really… can’t do anything without you.”

Before Byleth could protest, Mercedes had quietly slipped back out the door into the chilly night. She sighed and blew out the candles.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't abandon, just got writers block. Happy holidays~

He continued to arrive nightly. Byleth was hoping to take this as a sign of his rehabilitation, but it was rather hard to tell, as he barely ever spoke a word to her each time she invited him in. She would open the door, and he would begrudgingly lurch in, shutting the door as she went to remove her shirt without a hint of modesty, down to the straps she wound around her chest. He would remove the soiled bandages, clean and redress the wound, and storm back out as if he had never been there at all.

If anything could be said for the experience, Byleth could at least conclude that, one; as the days went on, he was less and less rough with her- perhaps out of fear of making the injury worse and prolonging his punishment, but nevertheless, she appreciated his attempts to be gentle- and two; since their reunion, she didn’t think she’d ever had the opportunity to look at him this long. He always spent so much time alone, or with his back turned from them- it was difficult for anyone to get close enough to him for more than a moment at a time, and even then it had better be important. But as she lay on her back on the bed, watching as he concentrated on cleaning the blood without bursting the scabs (which he did more than once), she felt like she could finally  _ see _ him. He looked… so tired. He only had one eye, of which she still had yet to receive an explanation, and the other held such weariness and sorrow. His limp hair hung uncombed over his face, and even his neutral expression was permanently etched into a scowl. It was honestly heartbreaking to see him this way, compared to the helpful, earnest, and cheerful boy she had met years ago.

Whether her methods were working or not was still unsure. He had in fact been arriving and doing as she asked, which implied that he definitely wanted her to stay, to trust him again- but his demeanor wasn’t changing at all. He was still cold, single minded, angry. He didn’t talk to anyone except the war council, and still then he only showed ambition for revenge. Dimitri was frustratingly impossible to read.

After a few days, she allowed herself to start training again, though she limited her activity to archery, fearing swordplay at this early stage would tear her injury. The others fussed over her needlessly, and while she appreciated their concern, she also prefered that they treat her like the warrior she was, not something fragile. What came as a bigger shock was finally noting a small change in Dimitri. The first day she came back to the training yard, she observed as he watched her from a parapet, his one-eyed gaze burning into her. It almost felt  _ disapproving _ . Like he was annoyed that she would risk further injury when her scar was still so raw and fresh. She couldn’t figure out if it was borne from legitimate concern for her well-being, or fear that his nightly ministrations would become undone if she overworked herself- either way, Byleth couldn’t help but appreciate the small amount of concern he deigned to show. It was a start.

Despite Dimitri’s unspoken thoughts on the matter, her training needed to continue. Another battle was upcoming- a battle to take back the Great Bridge of Myrddin from the Empire. The Alliance was giving them leave to cross their territory- a move Byleth hoped signified good relations for the future- and Byleth needed to be ready. She had absolutely no intention of sitting this battle out because of injury, and as she and Ashe fired arrows into faraway and partially obscured targets, her mind clouded with anger at Dimitri again for the way he slowed her down. Byleth trained late into the evening, even after Ashe had already gone to dinner. Sweet as he was, the young man had pleaded with his teacher to join him and let her body rest, but Byleth waved him off. She had already missed so many days of training, and she was determined to catch it back up. Byleth would not be a liability.

The sun hung low in the sky. Byleth retrieved the arrows from the target range, and anything that wasn’t broken went back into her quiver. Setting the dummies back properly, she moved again across the field for another bout. In truth, she was getting tired. Her fingers hurt from the string, her arms ached from the pull, and the wound on her belly was sore. Pulling the string back again, she fought through the pain. The arrow hit her mark. Darkness was setting over the training field, making her targets near invisible.  _ Good, _ she thought.  _ Not every battle will be in the sun. I need to train my eyes, as well as my arms. _ She released the string again, and the arrow embedded itself into what would have been the heart of a training dummy. Without even taking time to appreciate her victory, she fletched another arrow. Sweat was sticking her hair to her face, and her breathing was becoming labored from the pain she was forcing her body through.  _ I’ll just finish this quiver, and then I’ll rest, she thought. _ She could continue tomorrow, stay out later tomorrow. She could still make up for lost time.

“Stop.”

She had absolutely NOT heard him coming but years of training schooled her from showing any hint of surprise. Instead, she turned to Dimitri with a sharp expression.

“That’s rich, coming from  _ you. _ ”

He scowled. “You’re injured. If you push yourself, it won’t heal right.”

“What a bother that would be for you,” she spat in reply. Dimitri’s one visible eye narrowed.

“Yes,” he seethed, “it  _ would _ be a bother. It would limit your capacity on the battlefield, make a potential target out of you from any enemy who would exploit your weakness, and waste both my time  _ and _ yours on this nightly charade. Now, _ stop. _ ” Dimitri grabbed the bow from her hands, and flung it across the yard with a clatter. She spun on him in annoyance, hands on her hips. 

“Rude. How would you like it if I threw your weapon mid-training?”  
“You wouldn’t get close enough,” he replied in a growl. She tossed her hair.

“I was besting you just fine when I was  _ teaching _ you how to use that lance.”

“And I continued the training on my own while you were  _ asleep _ for five years.”

Owch. That one stung. Byleth faltered, considering for the first time that maybe she wasn’t the only one with a right to be angry. However unintentionally, she had abandoned her students when they needed her the most…. And poor Dimitri was suffering the worst of it. She turned away with a sigh, abashed. “Well, you win, then. Let me put the equipment away.”

She returned the arrows, quiver and bow to the equipment room with absolutely no help from Dimitri, who merely watched her with one cold, piercing eye. He followed her afterwards into the darkness as she retreated to her room, like a silent, stalking shadow.

  
*

There, the ritual resumed. Dimitri watched dispassionately as she removed her armor, down to her less-than-modest chest bindings, and his patchwork of bandages from the night before. He began to remove them, attempting somehow to be both careful and speedy. As the bandages fell away, Dimitri clicked his tongue to see spots of blood.

“You tore it open. If you don’t want this to heal, tell me so I can stop putting up with this farce,” he grumbled.

“Stop trying to get out of your homework,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. “This is still your mess to clean. Anything I may have done is a result of trying to stay battle-ready for the upcoming mission. -Don’t even  _ think _ about telling me to sit it out, I can see it in your face. I’m going to be there, and I’m going to fight.”

She read him like a book. The slightest change in his expression, and she responded to a suggestion he hadn’t even made. Extraordinary.

But just because she knew what he was about to say didn’t mean it was wrong. If she wanted to stay alive, she should consider staying on the sidelines. She wasn’t in top shape and that could easily get her killed against soldiers of the empire. If he had to, he could order her to stand down. It might even be the one command he made that the others agreed with.

She would definitely resent him. She’d be furious. Maybe she would even make good on her threat to leave him and seek out Claude. Maybe that would be for the best. She would be alive, at least.

But somehow, the thought of her aligning with Claude twisted in his gut like a knife. So he said nothing.

Byleth laid on the bed for him to begin the cleaning. Though her face showed no sign of pain, the wound itself was horrendous. Swollen raised flesh under an unsightly scabbed gash, ugly purple and yellow bruising coloring her pale skin. He winced to see it.

_ Your fault,  _ They said.  _ The pain she’s in, her inability to fight, this is your fault _ .  _ You made her as ugly on the outside as you are on the inside. _

Ever so lightly, he traced the path of the wound with his finger. What sort of person would do this? No person at all. A monster.

“You hate this, don’t you?”

His eye snapped up to meet her. She was looking at him like she was studying him- curious, but not judgmental. A scowl split Dimitri’s face. “Of course I hate this,” he growled. “It’s a waste of my time and yours. You should just go to Manuella.”

“ _ You _ shouldn’t have  _ struck _ me.”

“You should have dodged!”

“You shouldn’t have _ struck _ me!”

“I KNOW THAT!” Dimitri finally snapped, displaying rage and guilt and a deep, personal loathing. He could hear them whispering in his head, he couldn’t make out the words but he knew what they wanted.  They wanted bloodshed. The king grit his teeth.

“...I have given you my apology,” he began, sounding more drained than she had ever heard him, “and I am here every night,  _ proving _ to you my apology. Do not make this harder for me than it has to be.”

“Dimitri…” She sighed, sounding tired and sad. “I know you’re suffering. Please don’t think I don’t see that. I wish I could have been with you these last five years, truly. I want to help you. We all want to.”

He roughly smeared the salve across her belly with less care than usual, and stepped away from the bed, scowling deeply. “The only help I will accept is for my revenge. None of you are needed for anything else.”

With another pained sigh, Byleth stood, and held the roll of bandages out to him. “If you won’t show gratitude for what you have, then at least allow me to show gratitude for the help you’ve given. Thank you, Dimitri.”

He took the bandages in his hand, feeling like this was some sort of trap; he hadn’t done anything to be thankful for. He was here out of punishment, not friendship. He was doing this not out of the goodness of his heart, but out of necessity. He wanted to keep Byleth; he needed her. For his revenge.

He didn’t know how to respond, so again, he said nothing as he wrapped the roll of bandages around her waist. Slowly covering up the garish wound with all its horrible bruising was a slight relief to Dimitri, but tomorrow, it would be there again, accusing him, throwing his failure back in his face. When the wound was finally dressed, he stood again, and made for the door, but was stilled by her voice behind him “How is it healing?”

He turned back to her. “See for yourself,” he gruffly replied, but Byleth’s surprising response was to flush pink, looking embarrassed. 

“...I don’t know how to explain to you that I don’t have a very good view of my own belly.”

Dimitri had to think about that one, but when he got there, his face blanched. Of course. There was… an  _ obstruction _ … between her face and her belly. A barely covered obstruction that used to distract him to an ungentlemanly degree in his younger days. An obstruction he had successfully managed not to notice since she returned, up until this very moment, when he now couldn’t  _ stop _ noticing it. Dimitri scowled, his face reddening. “Check a mirror!” he barked and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Enraged, he stalked all the way to the dining hall, flushed and embarrassed at his own reaction. What a classless woman! Brazen, tactless! For over a week he’d been in her room, on her bed, alone, at night, touching her skin while she wore next to  _ nothing _ . What sort of situation was this! What was she getting at, with this arrangement! Did she think she could torment him? Was that the true punishment? Dimitri grit his teeth, mind rushing, face red as he lumbered up to the counter. At this time of night, no one was in the dining hall save a few staff members, cleaning up the days meals and prepping for the next. A cook recognized him immediately, and without a word, went to fetch the king’s nightly meal.

This had to be some sort of underlying punishment, he thought. Some sort of torture or test. What else could it be? Because if it wasn’t that, then despite what he’d done, despite what she’d said… it was trust.

_ Who would trust you? _ They said.  _ You did that to her. You can’t be trusted. For all her help, you gored her like a beast. _

_ ‘Please… stop,’ _ Dimitri begged.

_ Let her leave. Stop wasting your time trying to earn a prize that doesn’t exist. You are a killer. Go out and kill! Stain this land with your enemies’ blood. _ Our  _ enemies. _

A plate set down before him, startling the king back into existence. He blinked at it for a moment, and then turned to the cook. “Has the professor taken her meal?”

“I’ve not seen her since lunch,” The man replied. “She often skips dinner and makes it up with a hearty breakfast.”

“Prepare a second plate,” Dimitri ordered. The man bowed and returned to the kitchen.

This situation with the professor made no sense. It was either more than it seemed, or less, and it frustrated him. But if he was going to be in charge of her health, then by the Goddess, he was going to succeed at it. The chef returned and set a second plate down, and Dimitri took both plates up. Before leaving however, he turned back to the chef once more. “How does one tell if a wound is infected?” He asked. The chef blinked at him, opening and closing his mouth a couple times in surprise.

“Uhh,” He stammered, “...I’m no physician, Your Highness, but…” He coughed, “I believe blackening flesh and pus is a sign of infection… Why?”

Dimitri didn’t answer him as he swept out of the dining hall.

Clearly, she had not expected him to return. Upon answering his kick at the door (as both his hands were full), he found that she was in her sleeping clothes, a single candle lit by her bed and a book laid beside it. He barged in, thrusting the plate at her. “Eat.”

“I- You didn’t have to-”

“Just eat.”

She was clearly flustered, and especially taken aback when Dimitri himself set himself at her desk to take his own meal. Byleth looked like she wanted to say something, but evidently chose against it as she tended to her meal.

They ate in silence. There had been a slight worry it would be awkward, but it was actually rather companionable. Dimitri had been used to taking his meals alone, but as long as he had come all this way, he may as well eat before it got cold. He was grateful to the professor for choosing to eat without question, and afterward returned to her book without a word to him.

She had thanked him earlier. He may as well do something worth being thanked for.

When his plate was empty, Dimitri leaned onto his fist. He was tired. He had woken up early to train before the others roused, and exhaustion was beginning to overtake him. He blinked slowly, willing himself to stand and go back to his room.

The professor was reading comfortably, illumined by the single candle by her bed. She looked so warm. He felt so far away from her at that moment.

"..It's healing fine," He finally answered. She turned and smiled at him,and it was even warmer than the flame that lit her face.

  
*  
  


When he woke up, the room was dark. A pillow had been placed under his head, which had fallen onto the desk, and he had no memory of how that had come to be. Byleth was asleep in her bed, a folded up spare blanket serving as a makeshift pillow. Quietly, Dimitri left, shutting the door softly behind him.


End file.
